Weight of a Wasted Year
by Arwhale
Summary: After a long night of partying with her old friends at the Castle Courtyard, Moondancer once again heads back home. But despite all the good that has transpired that night... and unbeknownst to anypony else... there are still some inner demons left for her to confront when she arrives.


Being a long-time resident of Canterlot, Moondancer had seen it all. And as beautiful as Canterlot really was, she had to admit that, after a while, all of the sights eventually began to blend together. Choose any random city block, pick it up, and set it down over the top of another, and it would be very hard for anyone to tell the difference.

Sure, the place itself was gorgeous… most would argue that it was the prettiest city in all of Equestria… but even so, after years of living here, every pastel-colored architectural flourish, spiral staircase and set of alabaster columns seemed to morph together into a single, indistinguishable mass. After all, beauty was hard to notice when there was nothing to contrast it against.

It was for these reasons that, for the past year, Moondancer had not bothered to stray outside of her usual path between library and house. Why bother? It all looked the same anyway. Besides, she had a lot of studying to do, and when it came to productivity, the more uneventful her day was, the better.

For over a year, this had been her philosophy. It was one that she'd lived by, every single day.

Which is why tonight, walking home from the castle courtyard under such clear skies, it came as such a surprise that things felt so especially different.

For one thing, the walk was much longer than she was used to. Not being one for physical exercise, the extra distance was very noticeable for her. The lamp posts on either side of the park path were also much dimmer than the ones found in the city, and in the space between each one, the low light revealed the vast array of stars above her head.

But to Moondancer, what was the most striking of all were not the new sights, but the _sounds._ Crickets, hundreds of them, chirped away from every angle as the last sliver of sunlight disappeared under the horizon. Her ears twitched as the hoot of an owl sounded from a tree overhead, and from a small pond to her right, a bullfrog gave a low-pitched ribbit from atop a wide lily pad.

Moondancer took it all in with eyebrows raised; it was a look that reluctantly admitted to herself that maybe, just maybe, her philosophy for the past year had been incorrect.

Unfortunately, after several minutes she soon found herself back within the city limits and trotting down the same road she always did. And sure enough, there was nothing new for her to see… or hear. She walked past the ornate stone columns of the Canterlot library, past the bookseller's stand, closed for the night… past the local grocery outlet, a place she seldom had to enter… until eventually, her crumbling, worn down house came into view.

Yes, it was true that much of Canterlot looked the same. But her house, in all of its faded glory, was one of the few things left that still stuck out. She frowned.

With a flick of her magic, Moondancer slid the bolt out of the hole in the gate and entered her front yard. The blades of grass came up past her fetlocks and reached out into the path where she walked, a detail which made her sigh; she wouldn't be able to put off cutting it much longer. Insects had taken up residence in the overgrown grass as well, and being startled by her approach, leapt out of the yard and flew in front of her face, making her flinch all the way to her front door.

The first thing she noticed was the jagged, gaping hole in the wood. Moondancer grimaced… but otherwise, she paid it little mind. Turning the knob, she opened the door and stepped inside.

It wasn't that her house smelled _bad_ , per se… but there was only so much that cheap air freshener could cover up. Piles of disheveled papers and dusty folders littered the floor, along with an ever-growing collection of take-out boxes that had missed the overflowing garbage can. Stacks of books, most of which she had already read, formed themselves into makeshift walls all around the house. Luckily, there was still some semblance of a path where she could walk, but even that space was beginning to feel cramped.

Some may have seen the room and drawn inferences that were, in reality, undeserved; to them, the sight may have been the hallmark of the "absent-minded scholar," or something similar. But Moondancer knew they would only be paying her an undeserved compliment, a courtesy she did not actually deserve.

She avoided looking at her surroundings, focusing instead on a small, double-decker writing desk and chair in the corner of the room. It was virtually the only thing in sight that was not covered in a film of dust. A couple of books lay on the desk's upper shelf, and beside them, there was a quill and a half-empty jar of ink.

As was her routine, Moondancer made a beeline over to the desk. Setting her saddlebag on the floor beneath it along with a couple of new books, she plopped herself down in the wooden chair.

But unlike most other nights, tonight there was a small change to her routine. There was no cardboard or styrofoam take-out box to grab from out of her saddlebag; she'd already eaten at the party a couple of hours ago. And so, the only thing left for Moondancer to do was sit down in her chair, fold her hooves under her chin, and think.

And think she did. Her eyes drifted all around, although she seldom dared to look behind her; the mess was not a sight for sore eyes. Silence closed in all around her, making the room feel even stuffier than it already was.

Considering all that she'd done today, she should have been tired. Exhausted, even. A full day at the library was usually already enough to tire her out, and to add in a night of partying… it was more activity than she was used to. Much more.

But right now, against all expectations, Moondancer was not tired at all. Instead, she felt like she was swimming in her own thoughts, with all of the day's happenings being reflected back to her. The piñata, the lively music, the flakes of confetti drifting down from the air…

And after a year of unfaltering routine, of doing the same thing over and over again every day… this sort of reflection was such a rarity that, to her, it was almost unsettling.

Letting her thoughts wander, her eyes gradually drifted upward, until eventually she was eyeing the two textbooks that lay on the top shelf. The one on the right, a simple reference book, lay opened to the page she had left off of from the night before.

The one on the left, however, was closed. The book's fat spine held no fewer than a thousand pages, causing the whole thing to jut out quite a bit. Across the top of the front cover lay the title, red lettering printed in a rather unremarkable font: "Flora of Equestria: A Comprehensive Encyclopedia."

And perhaps most prominently of all, bookmarked between the pages near the middle of the book, was a lone, yellow sticky note.

Moondancer's eyes seemed to develop tunnel vision as they locked on the note. For a while she didn't even blink, her gaze unwavering. An observer would have thought she had seen a ghost, the way her pupils widened and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

More than a minute ticked by before Moondancer at last tore her eyes away. To her chagrin, her head now turned to face behind her, beholding her living room in its entirety.

There was a lot to look at… and none of it was good. Moondancer had lost count of how many times she had resolved to clean it all up, but each day she'd put it off, the prospect only got more and more daunting until even the _idea_ of cleaning it up made her heart flutter in her chest.

The mess mocked her. Moondancer felt the rebuke from deep within, and with eyes stinging, she turned her head away.

Yet again, her eyes became riveted to the sticky note. Just like before, it seemed to light up in the dimly lit room, effortlessly grabbing her attention. This time, she stared at it a little bit longer than before…

With a pained grimace, Moondancer peeled her gaze away.

Naturally drifting downward, her focus now switched to the saddlebag beneath her desk. It lay on its side with the flap unbuttoned. Moondancer bit her lip, as she usually did when she deep in thought.

Then, the unmistakable twinkling chime of magic sounded in the room as her horn began to glow, and with a small flick, she opened the flap.

She could faintly see the lacquered border of the picture frame sticking out from within. Moondancer, albeit with a bit of hesitation, levitated the object out of the bag and brought it up to her eye level.

And there it was again: the picture she had gotten at the party. All of her friends, all together in one place. When she had first torn it out of the wrapping paper only a couple of hours ago, she couldn't have helped but to tear up. It was very hard for her to imagine that it had only been a year… one, single, solitary year. Only a year's time that she had been adrift, isolated and alone with only her jumbled thoughts as company.

It had felt like ten.

And now, she suddenly found herself accepted back into the company she had tried so hard to push away. One night, one party… just like that. If she didn't know any better, she almost would have thought it had been too simple. Too easy...

With a shuddering exhale, Moondancer set the picture down. Her lip quivered.

However, it was not long before she found herself looking back up. Back at the neon yellow sticky note, displaying itself prominently from between the encyclopedia's wrinkled pages. The sight of it once again temporarily froze her in place. She swallowed a lump in her throat, and it felt like a ball of cotton going down her esophagus.

Her horn glowed again. Surrounded in a light gray aura, the thick, heavy book landed with a _whump_ on the desk. Moondancer sucked in a sharp breath and held the air in her lungs, closing her eyes. Contemplating.

Until, at long last, nearly biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, she opened the book to the marked page.

The diagram of a flower stared back up at her from the paper. Its petals were colored a deep crimson, each one looking like the blade of a spear that had been dipped in blood. Below that, there was a black and white diagram of Equestria, of which parts of the central region had been shaded in gray.

On the page opposite to the two pictures, an entire section of text had been highlighted. With her mouth going dry, Moondancer read the text silently to herself, feeling her pulse pounding in her ears.

 _The petals of the Heartbleed Lily, while strikingly beautiful, are by no means safe for consumption. Much like some of its lesser cousins to the south, this species also contains a collection of toxins that act specifically on the nervous system. However, out of all the species included in this family, the Heartbleed Lily is widely considered to be the deadliest by botanists and toxicologists._

 _Some reported symptoms of ingestion include slowed heartbeat, difficulty swallowing, paralysis, and asphyxiation. Unfortunately, due to the fast-acting properties of this flower's poison, there are no known cases of survival from consuming this species…_

That was what the highlighted section said in its entirety. However, Moondancer couldn't make it all the way through. Instead, her eyes shot back over to the diagram.

In the middle of the gray shaded blob, was a dark black dot labeled "Canterlot."

The sound of her rapid breathing was the only thing that could be heard in the room. The longer she stared at the shaded map, the faster her breathing became.

She wished she could have said that she'd stumbled upon it by accident on that late night only days ago. But in truth, she had scoured the entire encyclopedia, searching. Weighing her options…

Moondancer was no longer looking at the pages, but through them. She set her elbow down softly on the edge of the desk, and resting the side of her face in her hoof, she let loose a burdened sigh.

Water welled up in her eyes, but she angrily swiped it away. She accidentally knocked her glasses off of her face in the process, causing them to clatter on the hardwood, but Moondancer paid them no mind. Through now hazy vision, she continued to stare down at the flower in the diagram.

She could practically feel the sharp, blood-colored petals digging into her chest every time she breathed. The sensation was so real that she found herself irrationally glancing down, just to make sure that nothing was really there. And of course, nothing was… but that somehow only made it all worse.

A familiar feeling stirred in her gut; it was the feeling that her insides were floating inside of her, like tethered balloons bouncing off of one another in the wind. It was the same feeling she'd experienced when she'd thrown her first party, and her closest friend hadn't even shown up… and it had only gotten worse when she'd discovered that Twilight had left without even bothering to say goodbye.

The shame. The humiliation. The feeling of falling… no. She _had_ fallen. It was no longer just a feeling. The yellow sticky note, glowing up at her from the page, was the only proof she needed of that.

The next breath Moondancer let escape came from between clenched teeth. The air exited her mouth like a hiss of steam.

She could have tried to hide it all she wanted... but it was impossible not to feel angry, still. Tonight's party had bandaged the wounds, sure, but that did not mean that there weren't still cuts beneath the gauze. And for a whole year, those wounds had been allowed to fester, and despite even her best attempts to numb herself with endless studies, her efforts had only served to rub salt into the gashes.

Moondancer's teeth scraped together so audibly that they could have been heard from across the room. Her eyes squeezed shut.

And then, all of a sudden, her hoof slammed the book shut. Then, she snatched the encyclopedia up in her bare hooves, and with a bestial snarl, she hurled it across the room as hard as she possibly could.

The sound of the encyclopedia colliding with the wall rang out like a gunshot. It fell in a crumpled heap to the dusty carpet, leaving behind a large dent in the drywall. With the force of the impact, the yellow sticky note came unglued from the paper, and like an autumn leaf it gently floated down to the carpet.

Several hoofsteps away, Moondancer stood on all four hooves. Her ribcage rose and fell with deep breaths as she stared at the encyclopedia on the floor, and every part of her body quaked, shivering like she had been exposed to winter's chill.

She felt weak at the knees. Dizziness made her head tilt sideways, and as the light faded from her features, she swooned backward, falling back into her chair. With the fire in her eyes now extinguished, there was nothing left to evaporate the tears. As a consequence, they fell unhindered, flowing from her downcast eyes and spilling onto the floor.

It was a long while before Moondancer could lift her head. Crying had left her head feeling like a swollen balloon, and it ached terribly. Even the slightest movements made the pounding in her temples worse. Holding her head in her forelegs, she shuffled around in her chair until she was once again facing her desk, feeling feverish and fatigued…

That was when she noticed the picture. It was lying face up directly in front of her, and now that her view was unobstructed, she found herself staring at it through the haze of dried tears.

At first, there was a great deal of hesitation. But eventually, with a sniffle, she grabbed the picture in her magic, wincing as the simple levitation spell amplified her headache, and brought the gift up closer to her face.

It was a snapshot of happier times. They should have seemed so distant… nothing more than a bygone memory. This photo… it should have been nothing more than an aching reminder of what she had lost.

And only days ago, it certainly would have been. But not tonight.

There was no denying that things had changed. There was no denying the year she had lost; its weight still pressed heavily down on her shoulders. But as her eyes panned back and forth across the picture, over and over again… she was not reminded of that.

Instead, she remembered the party. She remembered _tonight_.

And tonight… tonight wasn't so far away.

The realization did not come in a flash, but rather, arrived very slowly. Moondancer sat motionless, the picture still hovering inches away from her face while the significance of her ruminations began to fully sink in.

And when they did, something happened that she did not expect: for the first time since she had left the party hours ago, her lips twitched upward into a smile. Not a big one by any measure, but nonetheless, it was there.

As the seconds ticked by, it only grew wider. Accompanying it, a warmth spread from her belly and worked its way up to her chest, only this time, it wasn't from anger or rage. It seeped through her pores, coating her skin in a shade of lively pink.

Without warning, Moondancer whirled her head around. Through her narrowed eyes, she beheld the terrible mess once again... but Moondancer did not back down. In fact, the sight of the discarded papers only acted as more kindling to fuel the flames of determination in her eyes.

With teeth bared, she picked up her glasses, pressed them back tightly onto her face, and got up from the chair.

Most days, the sun could barely manage to peek over the horizon before Moondancer was already out the door and well on her way to the library.

But today, the sun was already almost halfway up through the sky, and the door to her house had still not yet opened. Through the jagged hole in her front door, if one listened carefully, the sound of gentle snoring could be heard within.

Cradling a book to her head like a pillow, Moondancer slept in the middle of the floor. A little puddle of drool had formed on the carpet by her face, right beside her glasses which had slipped off sometime during the night. The floor all around her body had been cleared of debris, and jammed into the farthest corner, several trash bags and book-filled boxes labeled "Donations" could be seen.

And right above her head, as if peering down at her from the wall, hung the picture.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Thank you very much for reading. I tried not to make it feel rushed, but I don't know if I succeeded, so if there is any feedback you might have, let me know!**

 **~Arwhale**


End file.
